


Waiting

by Ladiladida



Category: Emma (2020), Emma - Jane Austen
Genre: Childbirth, Comforting Mr Woodhouse, F/M, Marriage, Mr Knightley is worried, Romance, Tension, Waiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:02:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23314357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladiladida/pseuds/Ladiladida
Summary: It was only since moving to Hartfield that Mr Knightley truly understood what Emma had once chided him for.‘You have always been your own master. You have no idea what it is to have tempers to manage.’In this moment, he understood absolutely and he loved her all the more.
Relationships: George Knightley/Emma Woodhouse
Comments: 18
Kudos: 383





	Waiting

**Author's Note:**

> This is a follow up to my one shot Retire for Rest
> 
> So this features Mr Woodhouse and Mr Knightley, but I have a follow up chapter much more George/Emma orientated. Please let me know if this would be of interest.

It was a curious thing indeed, being powerless. In a world where he was relied upon, esteemed and sought for, Mr Knightley now found himself redundant. The clock ticked to quarter past six on the mantle, the sun now melting amber in the distance. For a time, he had tried reading, a little later he watched the serenity of the summer afternoon melt away, yet he could not remain still for long. Restless was not the word he felt, there were no words. His feet seemed to burn and twitch in his boots, his mind reeled yet time seemed drawn out to painful slowness. There must be news soon, surely? 

He paced back and forth, from Emma’s abandoned piano forte to a metre shy of the door. Back and forth, back and forth he worried the floor boards. His fingers flexed as he moved, his body warm despite removing his coat. The starch in his clothes was more constrictive than usual, and he ran a hand once more through his hair. It must look wild by now, he thought. But he was not alone.

During all his duration of attempting to discharge his nervous energy, Mr Woodhouse sat silent. There was no book in the elder man’s hand, rather both were placed palms down on his knees. Unlike his son in law, Mr Woodhouse sat statuesque in his chair, staring blankly before him. At times he would observe the ill at ease Mr Knightley, but he would soon be overcome by his own dreaded thoughts.

What if Emma were to die?

“I shall send Elsie upstairs for news.” Mr Knightley said impatiently, his brow gathering beads of sweat. Though a summer night, the fire in the grate blazed, Mr Woodhouse wasn’t taking any chances. Walking to the door, he flung it open and called the maid’s name. Two male servants were despatched to fetch her, this was pointless. Could he not run up there himself to enquire, what was there to stop him?

Mr Knightley knew full well he would be halted. The woman from the village acting as support to Doctor Perry was fierce enough to make even he quake. Experience of birth was written upon her face, almost saying ‘no man is required here but a medical man.’ She was the sort who would not mind telling Mr Knightley so too, despite his rank. At any other time, this would be an amusement to him, but not now. 

Such was the turmoil of feeling within him. Fear for Emma, fear of fatherhood yet also the sight of Emma as a mother and holding a new Knightley in his arms. Not just any Knightley, his very own. He considered himself lucky to have one such person taking his name, but for her to bless him with a second... it was terrifying and thrilling in equal measure. Emma had given him more than he ever thought possible. Elsie came and she was sent to enquire after Mrs Knightley, all was quiet again.

As he stared blankly at the closed door, his mind still mulling over mixed emotions, a feeble voice said.  
“Do rest a moment, Mr Knightley.” Turning to the grave looking Mr Woodhouse, George Knightley was taken from himself for a moment. The elder man looked suddenly frailer, worry tightening the muscles in his face. It was true, here he was worrying for his wife and child, but this man was deeply afeared for his own daughter.

Without a word, he took up hid usual seat and for a while nothing was said. Mr Woodhouse looked at the flames licking and sparking at the coals in the grate. Mr Knightley felt it was time to reassure the older man, for was that not half of he and Emma’s duty to him? Their love and care of him always sought to render him comfortable and with peace of mind. Yet Mr Knightley wasn’t sure he had the right words tonight. Instead, he chose the obvious ones.  
“I am sure all will be well, Mr Woodhouse. These things take time. When I was in London for Henry’s birth, I believe John and I saw thirteen or more hours pass. It is usual I believe.” He explained gently and the eyes of his father in law met his own.  
“I have been where you yourself sit Mr Knightley twice before, I know what you feel. I thank you for your reassurance.” Mr Woodhouse closed his eyes. “I have kept her safe here, in good air with wide open spaces. It should have made her strong.”  
“Emma is the strongest of us all, you are correct.” Mr Knightley mused, finding himself smiling for a moment. “In will most of all.”  
“I was older than yourself when Isabella was born. When Emma came, I found the comfort of a chair so becoming for my back. Mrs Woodhouse would laugh, yet she was taken, then Isabella was married and taken from me...then Miss Taylor... too many.” Mr Woodhouse closed his eyes again as though blotting out painful memories dancing before him. But when they reopened, the elder’s expression softened. “I am grateful to you.”  
“I am always pleased to offer you any comfort I can, sir. Our friendship is a long one.”  
“No, you misunderstand me, Mr Knightley. You see, of all those I could have given Emma to, you have not taken her from me. You have no idea, what a comfort that has been. But now here we are... powerless. One sickly draft or chill could carry her away.”  
“Emma would not be so reckless, even when birthing a child. You have instructed her too well.” 

Mr Knightley imagined how those bright eyes of his wife would have glowed a little at this remark, she would struggle not to smile. Yet Mr Woodhouse took this as comfort to his heart and held onto it fiercely. It was only since moving to Hartfield that Mr Knightley truly understood what Emma had once chided him for.

‘You have always been your own master. You have no idea what it is to have tempers to manage.’

In this moment, he understood, absolutely and he loved her all the more. 

Footsteps could be heard descending the stairs and in an instant, both men shot up from their chairs. Mr Knightley moved like lightening towards the door, yet it was opened before he could reach the handle. It was not Elsie that entered, but Doctor Perry himself.

“Doctor Perry!” Mr Woodhouse exclaimed in shock, “you have not left your charge, surely?”  
“Mrs Knightley is in the best of care with Mrs Wrenn I assure you. I have only left for a moment as I sensed you would prefer to hear it from myself.”  
“Hear what? What has occurred?” Mr Woodhouse babbled but he was cut off.  
“How does Emma do?” Mr Knightley asked quickly, his stomach churning and lurching with nervous energy.  
“She does well... the first is always a difficult endeavour, but she is prevailing with that strong character I know her for.” 

This hardly satisfies Mr Knightley, who forgetting himself ran out into the hall and before he could collect himself was up the stairs. He heard Emma now and his heart went out to her. Being within only metres of the door, he had to now check himself and he stopped. Leaning against the wall, head resting back against it, all he could do was listen and wait. The pain and energy was clear in the groans she emitted and the powerlessness of his position became all too acute. 

Dr Perry passed him and moved to re-enter the room where Emma resided. He gave Mr Knightley a looked to check him should he be tempted to follow, but he did not. 

“I will remain here, I swear to it.” Mr Knightley promised and Doctor Perry nodded. As he opened the door to pass into the room, Mr Knightley continued. “Tell her that, tell her that I am out here... as near as I am able.”

The doctor again nodded and went inside, closing the door behind him. Time passed on, Mr Knightley now did not move from his spot. He listened, he waited and most of all, he loved, for his entire world was behind that door. Until it was open to him, he would wait forever.


End file.
